Andrew Scott - The Stag
Inception AU // Sherlock Holmes is a skilled thief, the absolute best in the dangerous art of Extraction; stealing valuable secrets from deep within the subconscious during the dream state, when the mind is at its most vulnerable. Sherlock’s rare ability has made him a coveted player in this treacherous new world of corporate espionage, but it has also made him an international fugitive and cost him everything he has ever loved. Now, one last job could give him his life back. Instead of the perfect heist, Sherlock and his team of specialists have to pull off the reverse: their task is not to steal an idea but to plant one. But no amount of careful planning or expertise can prepare the team for the dangerous enemy that seems to predict their every move. An enemy that only Sherlock could have seen coming…
Sherlock, The Extractor // John, The Point Man // Lestrade, The Forger // Mycroft, The Architect // Molly, The Chemist // Moriarty, The Shade
If I ever see any of you in public, the code is “I like your shoelaces”
that way we know we’re from tumblr without revealing anything
I’m just going to say this to strangers until i find a tumblr person
must keep reblogering!! Im going to be so suspicious if any one tells me this now!
Remember the answer is: I stole them from the president.
always reblog tumblr identification
This is how I met my girlfriend.
hahaha it’s true ♥
On what it was like shooting the purple wedding: ”All of us girls are sitting there, because it’s so hot in Dubrovnik in Croatia in the summer. So we’re all sitting with our skirts up around our necks, you know, playing scrabble. It’s very glamorous” — Natalie Dormer on Late Night with Seth Meyers (x)
YOU CHOSE TWITCHY. maybe i should make my casefic entirly about him and his imaginary barber quintet *also smooches like woah because*
I DEMAND ALL THE TWITCHY FIC lololol about that one time he got locked in Bright’s office because he was
collecting dust bunnies for his dust collection cleaning. Or that other time where he accidentally swallowed Division’s medals while polishing them with bitter tears and regret, and almost choked on them in his little corner, but no one noticed because no one ever does.
Your affection for a television programme can sometimes boil down to the smallest things. I’ve fallen for Endeavour over the last four weeks, a classy bit of Sunday-night escapism that, on paper, had some prejudices to overcome. It’s a spin-off for one thing, which always feels a little indolent as a commission. It’s also two hours long, which needn’t be a defect in a drama, but does put quite a high premium on it having some compensatory virtues. And it’s a period piece, which raises the danger that a Bakelite telephone or a vintage Vauxhall Cresta will used as a substitute for the kind of qualities you can’t simply hire from a prop house. But Endeavour has risen above all these disadvantages, largely because in Russell Lewis’s hands it knows when to stop.
Take Proverbs 26:11 as an illustrative text. The biblical text came up when Morse was called back north by his sister to visit his ailing father, an undemonstrative log of a man who chided him for making a fuss. “Proverbs 26:11,” she explained, was what Morse’s father had muttered when he learned that his son had returned to Oxford as a policeman. And the attractive thing about that scene was that she didn’t explain it further to Endeavour and the drama didn’t explain it further to us. There was a kind of clue, to bridge the gap for those who didn’t know. Morse implicitly paraphrased it as “returning to the scene of the crime”. But to get that it was the verse about a fool returning to his folly “as a dog returneth to his vomit”, you either had to know, or go and look it up.
The restraint made that moment far more believable than it might otherwise have been, the kind of modest opacity that real life is full, of but television dramas often like to tidy out of the way, for fear that an audience will take umbrage at being presented with anything less than utter transparency. And it feels there’s an analogy in that withholding for the careful underplaying of Shaun Evans as the young Morse. The visit home to his father rounded out the character a little more; that taciturnity is inherited, you suddenly see, and Morse’s relationship with Roger Allam’s bluffly paternal DI takes on a new aspect. But everything is done with virtually nothing on show. In a very touching moment at the end of last night’s episode, Evans conveyed Morse’s confused emotions at the death of his father with nothing more than a stricken fussing with his hands, gestures half completed and then cancelled. That was worth 20 minutes of gun-play.